Known, and Loving It
by Susan
This week I did something that most people would have found frivolous to the point of annoying — I sent an email and then sent it again just 2 minutes later, changing only the subject line and adding a brief note that only the subject line was different. I felt some anxiety for having thus cluttered my friend’s in-box with an unnecessary repeat. He responded with such joy, though, saying, “That’s like a *perfect* subject line!” As a fellow writer, he understood my motivation completely as well as my worry, and his reply unleashed in me a host of exaggeratedly happy feelings.
I love my friends, and I enjoy their replies to my notes, but the depth of feeling surprised me, so I’ve been thinking about what it means to be known and why its appeal is so great.
One of my relatives used to occasionally say to me something like, “Aha, I get you. I’ve got you pegged.” His remarks would annoy me to no end, though I wouldn’t tell him that, figuring he would redouble his efforts to predict me if he sensed a challenge. I assumed that my reaction was because I wanted to be a mystery of sorts, unknown and unpredictable. Later I decided that my irritation stemmed from the fact that he didn’t get me at all, but he was audacious enough to believe he did.
Here’s the kicker, though:
When I sense that someone I like truly does understand me, get me, know me, I feel delighted with that familiarity. It feels really good to be known, stalkers notwithstanding. Maybe that’s why the old-fashioned references to sex in the King James Version of the Bible rely on the metaphor of knowing, as in “Adam knew Eve.” Woo-hoo! What an understatement.
What I appreciate about Jesus is his humanity, the fact that he was willing to put on the heavy wetness of a limited body in order to be known more intimately. Through the recorded stories of God-the-Son’s interactions with people, I can understand God-the-Father better. I can attempt to extrapolate or predict within a given situation in my own life, “What would Jesus do?” Then, if I’m serious about following him, I can try to imitate the action we guess he would have taken.
By experiencing the physically constrained life we live, Jesus can personally empathize with the range of our human struggle, from pain to euphoria. He’s been tired, thirsty, hungry, sleepy, angry, disappointed, and challenged, as well as loving, teasing, appreciative, and excited. He’s been the life of the party, a convention-breaker, engaged in small talk that gets “big” really fast. He’s been known to doze off, break conventions, stand up for the underdog, and touch the untouchables.
In short, he’s an amazing human, an awesome God, and I’m glad to know him and to have him know me and value me.
Jesus’ “Sermon on the Mount,” which I will co-teach at the Palo Alto Church of Christ, starting April 6, has several references to this personal knowing and valuing. His knowledge is so intimate that “your Father knows what you need before you ask him” (Matthew 6:7 NIV) and so specific that “even the very hairs of your head are all numbered (Matthew 10:30 NIV).
Do you like being known by God?
March 6th, 2008 at 12:00 am
Do I like being known by God? In a word, yes. But of course all of this “knowing and being known” stuff is complicated enough with people — throw the Creator into the mix and the complication factor increases exponentially.
I want to be known by people I like and trust more than by those I don’t like and trust. But with those I do like (the very same people I hope like me), there is always the concern that the more deeply I’m known the less I might be liked.
Imagine how that is with God. I want God to love me, and he does in spite of knowing me. So do a lot of my friends and family, and that is a blessing and a joy, too, and suddenly calls to mind a fond childhood memory.
In the laundry room of the house I grew up in there was a tiny little framed sign, probably only about 6 x 6, in black and white with a picture of a mutt sitting on his haunches. Next to the little shaggy dog was this text: “A friend is not a feller who is taken in by sham; A friend is one who knows your faults and doesn’t give a damn.”
March 7th, 2008 at 3:01 pm
In spite of your clear God-oriented leadup, when I first read that last quote, I still thought of it more in terms of the friends I like. I thought how true that we cut each other plenty of slack, and we’re glad to do it because of the good stuff we offer each other.
But on this last rereading, I saw how much more pertinent the quote is with God in mind. He isn’t taken in by sham; he knows our thoughts and feelings even when we would prefer to hide them. And because of Jesus’ action on our behalf, God doesn’t literally damn us to an eternity away from his presence.
March 8th, 2008 at 8:26 pm
I am not sure I am always comfortable with what it is God knows about me. I wish I could say I were, but that’s not the truth.
I guess it is not the knowing that I dwell on but the loving, God loves me in spite of what He knows about me. That befuddles me. Because even I don’t like me sometimes. How can he?
My challenge to myself is that God know all that is good about me and that is all there is to know.
March 9th, 2008 at 8:28 pm
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March 9th, 2008 at 10:37 pm
Hm, that’s an oddly cryptic, content-free message. Here’s what it means: I referred to this Known And Loving It blog in my more recent Real Love is Gritty blog, and this is the pingback message.